


eight step program

by jesterseal



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, all tagged characters will have focus at some point!, discussions of mental illness and trauma (by self-conscious teens), it's jeremy time babey, jeremy ... is sorta in love with all his friends And Thats Valid, jeremy with literal tics and fidgets, warning tags in chapter notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterseal/pseuds/jesterseal
Summary: Jeremy has been doing better in the last few months than he has in the last few years, but he can feel himself going into a weird downward spiral- one that he is increasingly becoming worried will affect his performance in the upcoming Spring production.But it's fine, it's fine, as long as he just figures out what his deal is and gets over it. It's fine!(Jeremy is absolutely screwed.)





	1. i have a tick and a twitch for everything

**Author's Note:**

> Jeremy's been having trouble in rehearsal. Christine gives some advice.
> 
> Also: dolphins, zombie noises, and gratuitous yogurt-waving.  
> \---  
> (okay, so. hi! I've been writing things for BMC for a while and finally gonna post this. it kind of turned into a monster, but i hope yall like it.
> 
> warnings: Jeremy's General Lack of Self-Esteem, brief appearances of Jeremy's Huge Guilt Complex, some discussion of said poor esteem, and internalized ableism esp. in regard to tic disorders. let me know if there is something else I should give a heads up about!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy's been having trouble in rehearsal. Christine gives some advice.
> 
> Also: dolphins, zombie noises, and gratuitous yogurt-waving.
> 
> \---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (okay, so. hi! I've been writing things for BMC for a while and finally gonna post this. it kind of turned into a monster, but i hope yall like it.
> 
> warnings: Jeremy's General Lack of Self-Esteem, brief appearances of Jeremy's Huge Guilt Complex, some discussion of said poor esteem, and internalized ableism esp. in regard to tic disorders. let me know if there is something else I should give a heads up about!)

If Jeremy had to describe his second semester of Junior year, it would have to be… surprisingly good?

It’s weird- not in the bad way, just strange and new and nice in ways he isn’t quite used to yet- that when he finally rolls himself out of bed and turns off the alarm on his phone, he doesn’t see a blank screen.

He sees a reminder from Christine about their rehearsal tonight, attached to a slightly blurred picture of the progress she’s made on ‘getting the authenticity needed to play a character that depends on her genuine nature to work, Jeremy!’ in her costume for the dress rehearsal next week. He sees a text from Michael telling him he can’t drive Jeremy this morning because he’s helping out “nicky t”, Michael’s new tech friend who lives on the other side of town, which Jeremy appreciates because Michael is always dead on his feet in the morning and could have easily forgotten. There’s Rich, with a text about meeting up for a ‘mad game sesh’ sent at asscrack in the morning, and there are pictures of Jake posing with random props in the group chat, and some last minute call for extra people to help with rehearsal posted on their school’s Instagram- probably Jenna or Madeline.

It reminds him how good a lot of things have been, recently. He’s been hanging out with more people, he’s been trying to be a better person and a better friend, he’s trying to be happier and more confident and supportive. 

And that’s what he thinks about, what he reminds himself as he sits up on his bed and tosses his legs over the side- that he has friends now, he somehow got in as the lead to the spring production, his Dad is being a dad, he’s mostly been able to wrench his grades out of the burning trash fire of last quarter... He’s been feeling better- more awake, more happy, more alive in these last couple months than he’s felt since November. Better than he’s felt in a long, long time.

So by all accounts, with reminding himself how _good_ things are now, how much _better_ he is now, he should be _fine_.

Jeremy realizes he was bunching up his sheets while lost in thought. He loosens his death grip, flexing his fingers, and feels a familiar itch-burn in his joints. He absentmindedly cracks his knuckles, then stretches his fingers. Then he cracks his knuckles and cracks his knuckles and stretches his fingers then cracks his knuckles and cracks and stretch and crack, crack, stretch, and _goddammit_. He stuffs his stupid, stupid traitorous hands in the gross, greasy curls of his hair and groans.

Therein lies his problem.

It wasn’t a lie to say everything’s been good, really. It has been.

Which makes it even worse.

Because he _was_ doing better, and he _has_ been doing _good_ , but all of a sudden his mood has been on the fritz, going up and down with no apparent rhyme or reason, and his anxiety’s been going off with no clear cause- and these things suck pretty bad on their own, but.  
But. As the final cherry on his ‘oh shit’ sundae, his dumb and freaky- his tics, or, or compulsions, or whatever, have been flaring up again.

(And he's gone so long without worrying about them too hard, but now even hearing someone behind him crack their knuckles or see someone do it across the room gives him that embarrassing sneeze-itch-compulsion that has him getting stuck in loops of copying, copying stretched arms and rolled necks and wiping his mouth and clearing his throat. And it sucks.)

And, and like- there he goes again. He was feeling really, really good- not perfect, and sometimes not as better, but he was improving. And he’s trying to be as optimistic as he had been earlier in the year- he knows that just in some weird downswing, and his mood will come back around, but frankly this couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Reason one. Finals week is coming up, and that means practice tests, and that means trying to be quiet and unobtrusive to avoid annoying or distracting people, (because what if they fail because of him? or he gets kicked out for being so fidgety it counts as a testing anomaly?) and he _can_ do it but it makes him tired and distracted.

Two is that nobody in his new friend group has ever seen his tic'ing get really bad before, and he sort of never wants them to, (because what if he gets kicked out because why would they risk someone with his problems as the _lead_? or he embarrasses himself in front of everyone and ruins the play?) but he’s also going to be spending entire school days and extended rehearsals with them, and he’s already going to be exhausted and twitchy from practice exams and nerves.  
...Two point five is that nobody except Michael even knows he has tics. Three is that he doesn’t want to tell Michael how bad things are.

And all of this combined with the fact that he needs to get, get his _everything_ under control before he has to perform in front of the whole school. And he doesn’t even really know why things started to get bad again and what could be causing it because he wasn’t even _that_ anxious about performing or tests or his friends but now, now with the added stress of his tics it’s getting worse and worse, tics making his anxiety act up and his anxiety making his tics act up, and over and over-

Jeremy lets out a breath. _A positive feedback loop_. That’s what Michael said caused hyperventilation and compulsions and was, like, a really bad thing for nature after he watched a weird environmental science documentary or something. 

So he’s just got to… get the system back to equilibrium. Just keep on going until it fixes itself.

He sighs, sends an ‘it looks really good chris!’ and a thumbs up and a ‘sure, man!’ and a ‘do i want to know the context for this?’ and starts to get ready. Just keep going.

\---

They run through the scene at least three times before Mr. Reyes gives up.

He says something like “hot pocket break” and “10-minute wrap-up” before disappearing off the stage, and Jeremy has to admit that he didn’t even fully hear him say that.

Jeremy sighs quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand, head held down. He knows that he was thinking about not ticcing the whole time which left his hands stuck unnaturally at his sides and he knows his singing and blocking were probably off because of how tired he is and he knows that everyone else probably noticed and is thinking he doesn't care or isn’t trying hard enough, or… yeah. 

As he looks up, he can see Jenna, Chloe, and Brooke staring at him from across the stage.

Jenna looks vaguely worried and mostly curious, Brooke is doing that- that little confused head tilt thing she does (which, honestly, Jeremy still isn’t sure if it’s on purpose or just a naturally cute thing she does. Either way, it makes the back of his neck itch to copy it which, again, is not helping), and Chloe is fixing him with a look that manages to somehow- near telepathically- tell him exactly what she’s thinking. _What the actual hell?_

When she notices he’s paying attention, she does a little telephone gesture with her hand, eyebrow raised to a ridiculous degree. It would be funny, Jeremy thinks, if Chloe wasn’t an objectively intimidating person. “Phoning it in, Heere?”

Jeremy swallows nervously, barely noticing Brooke elbow Chloe sharply, and tries to think about a proper response before he feels a weight sink on his shoulders. It takes Jeremy two tries looking over each shoulder and a head tilt up (far, far up) to figure out who it is, and thank god.

“Actually,” Jake says, “Rich says he needs him to phone it in… over _there_.” Even as he loudly groan-laughs at the really, really dumb pun, he’s never been more thankful for the effortless way that Jake diffuses tension. Jeremy sees Jenna scrolling through her phone and Brooke and Chloe bickering while Jake turns him around, all looking like they’ve already forgotten his performance. (Hopefully.)  
(...Maybe.)  
( _Eugh._ )

Jake steers Jeremy casually backstage, past Dustin carrying props back to the storage room and Madeline setting up the ropes to leave. Jeremy doesn’t really know where he’s going, but. 

Honestly.

Between keeping up with Jake’s long-legged amble and getting distracted by the rhythmic clack of Jake's cane on the wood of the stage and sort-of thinking about how weirdly nice Jake’s arm is across his shoulders and trying to keep up with whatever Jake is saying about a new vocal warm-up he’s trying and getting embarrassed about how he’s light enough to just get steered around was kind of keeping him from thinking about where they were going too hard. Jake lightly pushes him to sit in a chair, and Jeremy doesn’t even really think about it.

When Jeremy looks up and sees the smirking face of Rich Goranski, he realizes he’s made a fatal mistake.

Jeremy groans as Rich starts cackling, and Jeremy sits back into the little desk chair. “I had to use illicit methods this time, Heere,” Rich says as he starts untangling the mic from Jeremy’s hair, “you’ve forced my hand.” 

Jeremy pouts. “Last time was an accident,” he mumbles, “I didn’t mean to walk out with my mic still on.” 

“Y’see, that would be a good excuse! If you still weren’t on mic probation and totally had to come to me to take it off.”

“You _accidentally_ disassemble a mic after it gets tangled in your hair _one time_ ,” Jeremy sighs, “and your stage manager never trusts you again.”

“Exactly!” Rich grinned toothily, then visibly focused on extracting the mic as carefully as possible.

Rich’s silence let Jeremy’s thoughts slip back into the rehearsal. He can’t even blame Chloe or Brooke or Jenna or anyone else for being pissed off, honestly. It must look like he doesn’t care or isn’t trying, and Christine has a huge thing about ‘practicing like you’re performing for real!’ He can imagine her getting confused and angry thinking that he’s a jerk again, or Michael getting worried about him being weird, or Mr. Reyes replacing him with someone else or kicking him out completely. Or-

Jeremy comes back down to reality when Rich yanks a little on Jeremy’s hair, obviously still in stage manager mode. Rich hums, satisfied, as he finally gets the mic free (along with a few strands of Jeremy’s hair, probably). Jeremy thinks about making a joke like ‘am I free to go, officer?’ before he realizes the weird face Rich is making. It’s like… Rich is trying to look for something, or looking at something, on Jeremy’s face. Or maybe in the general direction of his face?

Jeremy nervously clears his throat. “...Rich?” He says, waving a little.

Rich’s look lingers before he finally shakes his head. “Dude. Are you good?”

Jeremy startles a bit, and can’t help but turn away. He’s so obvious, he knows that, but. “...Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.” He says, hesitantly making eye contact and moving his right hand from where it had started self-consciously rubbing his shoulder and back into his lap. He tries to smile reassuringly, because it's true if he says it.

Rich stares at him, then leans back and makes an ‘i’m watching you gesture’ while also making a silly pouty face and trying to wrap the microphone wire with one hand. This time, it’s actually pretty funny. “Alright, man. But a game sesh later this week, you hear me?” He grins maniacally. “Oh my god, wait. Do you Heere me?”

“Nope, nope,” Jeremy feels his soul leaving his body. “I don’t, actually, nope. Cuh-Can’t, can’t hear you.” He also feels his body leaving the chair. “I have to leave. Immediately.”

Jeremy stumbles down the stage steps, looking around the empty auditorium before he spots a bright red hoodie walking backwards out of the tech room. He can’t help the smile that he feels bubble up, and starts to climb the carpeted ramp to the door. Jeremy feels his eyes wander from the back of Michael’s hoodie to the lit inside of the tech room, and he can see Nicole waving her hands casually as she talks, feet kicked up on the lighting rig she controls. 

Nicole’s pretty nice, Jeremy thinks. She’s designed most of the props and design elements of the play along with doing the lights. She gets along with Michael and Rich really well as part of tech. 

Jeremy must have gotten lost in thought, because he jumps when he hears a bemused “Dude.”  
Michael is turned towards Jeremy fully now, smiling goofily and swishing the straw of an empty Slushie around in the cup. Jeremy smiles back at him- because it must have slipped off his face, for some reason- and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Sorry, I zoned.” Jeremy laughed lightly. “Was it all good in the- uh, in the sound? Noise ...place?” His exhaustion tumbles the words around in his mouth and they come out in pieces. 

Michael laughs. “Yeah, man. The sound sure did happen.” Jeremy flips him off and Michael shifts his backpack on his shoulders and chuckles. “But yeah! We fixed that weird popping feedback. You guys notice anything?”

He’s tired, but talking to Michael- especially about something like this- is always easy. “Yeah, we- we got no problems with the- the sound. Everyone has really improved on their projection too! And I didn't break any more mics, ha…” 

Jeremy looks away, waiting for a rag about the mic debacle or ‘noise place’ but there's a bit more silence than usual on Michael’s end. Jeremy looks up to see Michael looking away. “Michael…?”

“Uh.” Michael balks, then tries to casually adjust his headphones. “How was practice for you? How ya… how ya doing?” 

“Oh, um. I’m good. Why, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You, uh, were sighing pretty hard into the mic, my man.” Michael twirls his fingers into the cord. 

Jeremy opens his mouth to- to deny it, or maybe to answer, and it feels like he might say the truth.

But then Michael says “But, I dunno dude, it’s kinda late!”, even though they both know it's only mid afternoon. “You’re probably tired,” he says, as he locks the tech room with a monstrously large collection of keys from his front pocket. “Long day ‘n all.” Michael laughs a little off-pitch, and stuffs the keys back in. Jeremy can hear Michael’s feet restlessly tap against the carpet.

Jeremy closes his mouth. “Yeah, I’m exhausted.” He smiles wider, and feels a twitch to tap his foot along that he barely puts down. “You, uh- you ready to go, dude?”

Michael then got a totally ‘Michael-in-the-headlights’ look and the front door of the theatre opened again, Nicole’s head popping out. “Yo, Mellow! Let’s go!” she yells while opening up the rest of the door, before noticing Jeremy and self-consciously shuffling her feet and waving.

Jeremy waves back, and he looks between Nicole and Michael. The same time Michael says ‘“I’m so sorry, man-” Jeremy waves the hand not gripping his backpack strap. “It’s fine, Michael. You- You said that you’d drop her off tonight. I forgot.” He didn’t, but it’s fine. It’s cool. “See you later, dude.”

Michael loses the lost look and grins again. “Aw, right! Be careful on the way home, man. See ya!” He looks like he might go for a pat on the shoulder or a fist bump but then he just salutes and heads on out the open door. 

Jeremy weakly salutes back after the door shuts slowly closed. He looks behind him. He can hear some movement and shuffling, but it could just as easily be the stage settling or the resident theatre ghost as it could be a person. He walks back down the ramp to the back entrance, where it seems that pretty much everyone has already left from. He feels a sigh bubble up from his chest, already pretty resigned to a quiet walk home, and goes to turn the doorknob.

“Jeremy! Wait up!”

_Jesus Christ_ people need to stop making him jump today. Covering his mouth because of the mortally embarrassing honk noise he made in surprise, he turns around.

“Christine?” He says, dropping his hands. Christine smiles up at him, bouncing on her heels in her little neon windbreaker, her backpack making little clinking noises on each swing. “I’m sorry I didn’t say hi after practice!” Jeremy blurts out, honestly meaning it even if he was kind of avoiding her. “I was- I kind of- I kind of got stuck.”

“Rich caught you, right? And no! It’s fine!” Christine waves her arms around wildly. “Plus, I didn’t tell you that I wanted to meet up with you today.”

“Meet up,” Jeremy repeats, feeling a resigned sort of dread.

“Yep! Is that good for you? I know your dad likes to have family time on Friday nights, and Rich said that he’s got you booked for Thursday, and there's swim meet on Wednesday, and I know there’s a big practice exam going on in your physics class on Tuesday and you’re always really tired after those, and we’re both here right now!”

As she rambles, Jeremy can feel the dread start to lighten up into the normal giddiness he feels around Christine. She’s in a good mood, so this isn’t to call him out for his performance, right? Just normal friend hangout time. Yeah.

“That sounds great, Christine,” He says. “Where did you want to go?”

Christine grins and pushes open the door behind him. The setting sun casts an orange glow onto the side of her face. “Let’s go get some ‘gurt.” She says goofily, giggling.

Jeremy can’t stop laughing all the way out the door and to Christine’s neon green Bug. It’s nice, even if he sounds like a dying seal. Christine says she sounds like a broken squeaky toy when she gets excited, so they’re even. It’s nice.

\---

Christine waves back-and-forth down the park road, waving around her frozen yogurt cup as she talks. Jeremy trails after her, the froyo in his hands colder than the warming spring afternoon air. He laughs along to her rant, stumbling on pebbles and avoiding low tree branches. They always like to wander around the nearby park after going to the mall, to decompress on the walk to her car.

“I just think that people could put a lot more oomph in their zombie impressions.” She twirls around on her toes, skirt flowing around her. “Like, okay, uuurgh, or whatever, but you gotta sell me on it!” 

“Less, um... blugh? More…” Jeremy ignores the rising blush to his cheeks as he makes a face and does a weird gurgle-growl in the back of his throat. He hears a laugh from his side and sees Christine with eyes somehow in different directions and making a noise like ‘buh-waauhgghgh’ and he can’t help but break and laugh wheezily, wiping his mouth from an embarrassing bit of drool. Christine cackles and drags him into wandering in circles around the road with her.

“Sound design is important Jeremy! It makes a huge difference on the stage. Like does an ‘eh-eh-eh’ dolphin noise do it for you, or _this_?” Christine does a frighteningly accurate dolphin noise, and Jeremy’s laugh sounds like a responding squeal.

Earlier they went over their scripts, talking about character choices and line interpretations, discussion the risk versus benefit of doing goofy faux-Brooklyn accents. It’s always nice hanging with Christine, Jeremy thinks, effortless and non-judgmental in a lot of the same ways it is with Michael. 

The conversation trails off a little, and Jeremy mentions the darkening sky offhandedly, how they should probably get to Christine’s car before his dad checks in on him. Christine just hums, but Jeremy’s pretty sure she’s still just thinking about zombie dolphins, so it’s fine.

They pass by a bench next to a lamp post as the hazy yellow light flickers, still deciding whether or not it’s dark enough to turn on. Christine stops right before they move past it.

He’s about to ask something like ‘whuh?’ before Christine blurts out “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

Jeremy starts to say “We are talking,” but the unsure-but-serious expression on Christine’s face makes him pause and makes the dread rise up in his throat once again. “Sure,” is what he says.

Christine sits him down next to her on the bench. The light behind her casts her face in a soft shadow, and probably casts his own in a sickly yellow.

“Jeremy…” Christine starts, then stops, and Jeremy fidgets, tapping against his knee totally off-beat.

"...If you don't want to be in the musical, it's fine." She tucks a part of her bangs behind her ear. "Just... tell me or Mr. Reyes, and we can get that sophomore understudy to do your role, and it’ll be fine." Jeremy spends a long moment wondering why she's looking away before what she said actually hits him.

He bursts out a 'what?' before he can stop himself, but, what? Did he miss something? "Wh-wh, why would I want to quit?" Or is this her way of telling him that she wants him to quit? Or-

“I mean, I just- I don’t want you to keep doing theatre if it's not something you actually want to do.” She jiggles her leg frantically in between every word. “Not just because I’m doing it.”

Jeremy can’t even really think why she would ask, but then the fact that she never knew him before the play comes to the forefront of his mind. She literally doesn’t know that he’s always kind of wanted to do... this. And even if it’s sorta weirdly embarrassing, she needs to know. 

“I- Well, okay, yeah, I signed up for the play the- the first time because you did.” He flips his bangs nervously. “But I’ve always wanted to join the theatre, and- and seeing you sign up made me feel brave enough to actually do it.” Jeremy remembers that... he’s been absolute garbage at rehearsal for seemingly absolutely no reason. And she probably thinks he doesn’t- he doesn’t care.

Jeremy runs his hand through his hair again, reminding himself that Christine deserves to know it’s not her fault. “I know I’ve been- I’ve been weird. It’s because... I’ve been worrying about my- um, I guess character interpretation? More than just line delivery, like we’ve been working on.” He says, crossing his legs. Not a lie.

Christine seems to consider this for a bit. “...So you’ve just been having a mental block?” Jeremy nods jerkily. Sure. Not untrue. “Oh! I can help with that! Yes!” She bounces back up, wiggling her hands.

“You know it’s okay to make your character your own, right? If it’s because you’re trying to force yourself to play the part like Wilkof or Haze, then you gotta know the best thing to do is put parts of yourself in the character! Then it’s always going to be a new and different interpretation, and people will appreciate that. Like me and Blanche, I think I brought a brand new version of the character to the stage by emphasizing-” Jeremy loves her, and he appreciates her advice, but it’s a case of a Christine-is-going-on-a-discussion-of-a-slightly-different-topic-than-he-meant situation. 

“Thank, thank you, Christine! That is good- it’s good advice, but… It’s not quite the problem? It’s more of a… I’m trying not to… I’m trying to avoid putting a certain part of me in the character? And also in my life in general?” Jesus, that’s a bad way to start this. He’s making no sense. “It’s, it’s, it’s weird. It’s a weird thing. Not that it’s like, a bad thing for people to have, it just-” Jeremy’s mouth stumbles over the crash of his negative thoughts and practiced positivity.

“What's wrong, Jeremy?” Christine asks, leaning in closer, resting a hand comfortingly on Jeremy’s forearm.

“I, well-” He sputters, trying to think of an answer that is honest but not too honest and weird- but then he thinks, this is Christine.

Christine who doesn’t judge him for making weird noises or his stupid rituals to pump himself up or calm himself down.

He takes a shaky breath in. “I, um.” 

Shaky breath out. 

“I have- I get tics. Like, they’re sort of like really needing to sneeze? Like you could hold it back but you really really want to sneeze. Except for me sometimes it’s for rubbing my nose o-or clearing my throat or something.” Which he says, goddammit, while starting to rub his nose and feeling and itch in the back of his throat. “It’s been a little more… ticcy, recently.”

He pokes a hole into the styrofoam of his empty cup. “And it would get pretty tiring if you had to hold back a sneeze every five minutes, right? But you would be afraid of annoying your classmates, like- like, ‘oh, maybe he’s not sneezing because he has to, maybe he’s just being annoying?’”

“And. Yeah. I’ve been trying to hold back on doing… weird things in class and in rehearsal and by the time we’re doing practice runs I’m… exhausted. Which, like, isn’t supposed to be an excuse, it’s just- yeah. I don’t want to be embarrassing. And I didn’t tell you guys because… I don’t know. I don’t want you to think I’m...” The squip-like voice in the back of his head helpfully auto-fills the blank with really great phrases like ‘wired wrong’ and ‘a freak’ and ‘really, the worst choice for a lead possible, with your kinds of...issues, don’t you think?’. Thanks, bud.

“I guess… it seems. Like a lot to ask. To deal with. Especially since…” Jeremy flaps his empty hand uselessly. “...Everything.”

There's a few beats of silence that feels like a growing weight on Jeremy's chest. Jeremy looks up when he feels a hand rest lightly on his arm. "Thank you for telling me, Jeremy," she says with an intensity that makes Jeremy want to hide his face. "I can tell that this is really important to you. And I..." Christine opens her mouth, and then closes it, her mouth drawing into a line. Christine looks away, the corners of her eyes crinkling just a little less and her eyebrows furrowing just a little more. 

(Jeremy distantly remembers that she tends to gnaw on the inside of her mouth- like she’s doing now- when deciding whether to say something in class or debating a risky character choice or thinking about which flavor to get at the frozen yogurt place.)

“Thank you, Jeremy. I…” Christine mumbles. “Sorry, I’m just… The reason I asked if you didn’t want to do this anymore was because I’m kind of used to people just, well.” Jeremy waits for her to collect her thoughts, threading his fingers through the holes in his cup. “When I was younger, people just kind of started to… tune me out? Because I was nice but talked too much about things people didn’t care about, they just… learned to ignore me, I guess. Even my parents sometimes, even if I know they didn’t mean anything bad about it. People would just go along with what I said, but they were mostly just humoring me. I was getting worried that's what theatre was going to turn out like." 

She scoots a few inches back, pulling her hands away to hold them in front of herself, weaving her fingers together. “Back at the play, that wasn’t… that wasn’t the first time someone told me… there was something wrong with me, the way that I am.”

“A-Again, Christine, I’m so sorry-” He feels the words spill out before he can stop them, wincing at interrupting Christine in the middle of her telling him something so obviously serious, but also wanting to know that he would never think that about her-

“Really Jeremy, it’s okay! I wasn’t trying to make you guilty or anything- you’ve been forgiven for, like, ever! Especially when I learned all the sci-fi stuff.” Jeremy looks back to her, seeing her still a little deflated but with her smile and crinkled eyes returned, gesturing widely. He gives a half-smile back, finding himself biting the inside of his lip to stop a “sorry for saying sorry” and rubbing the spot on his cardigan that she rested her hand on before. “I meant to say... I know that you know what that feels like.”

That makes Jeremy meet her eyes full-on again. She gives him a sad little smile before it slowly slides off and she looks away. “You were taught that you had to change to be liked. We both have been told to change, but I liked who I was before. You… didn’t, I know.”

Jeremy can’t say anything past the lump in his throat.

“That feeling like I was, like, inherently wrong somehow... That’s something I’ve been dealing with for a long time. You were going through that too, Jer.” Christine says, voice a little wet sounding, and smile still a bit somber, but also with the warm sort of care that makes the weight in Jeremy’s chest lighten and intensify at the same time. “I'm sorry that I kind of assumed the worst, and that you didn't know that you could always tell me something like that. I would never judge you for something you can’t control. Of course it isn’t ‘too much’.” Christine laughed breathily. “If you are, I’m right there with you.”

Jeremy gives her his own sad-ish, dorky grin. “B-But you- you know- I hope you know that I would never ask you to change yourself either. You’re… you’re _amazing_. And not despite all the weird things we do. I like you- I like being friends with you! A-And- you help me, a lot. Having someone who doesn’t just deal with my problems, or my weirdness- but like, goes with it…” He lets out a breath. “It’s something I- I really appreciate, you doing for me.”

The darker mood around Christine brightens gradually until it cracks completely, with a friendly push on Jeremy’s shoulder and a laugh that he can only describe as a guffaw. 

“Well then, _there_ , dummy! The same to you!” She giggles, pulling him gently back onto the bench from where her push almost completely shoved him off. Then she gets that dangerous-crazy-determined glint in her eye again and rights him so that he faces her, staring him down.

“But! You gotta know, like, jeez! I don’t do goblin dying noises with you or practice script readings with you or get froyo with you to humor you!” She laughs like the very idea is completely ridiculous, gesturing increasingly enthusiastically with her mostly-empty cup. “I like hanging out with you! I have a good time!” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she swirls the remains in the cup around. “You never make me feel like… I’m weird, or freaky, and always do noises back at me and never question when I do like, super weird things!” She gestures at him with her spoon, almost getting him in the eye with melted froyo. “Like, really really weird.”

“I care about you, Jerm! And everybody else does too, y'know? And- if someone tries to make you feel bad for something like that, I'll... I'll beat them up!" Christine draws her eyebrows down and pouts, putting up a fist and shaking it. "'Cause you would try too, if someone did with me."

Jeremy kind of feels like crying. “Thanks, Christine,” He says, trying to pretend his voice isn’t wobbling. 

Christine grabs his hand for real this time, swinging it easily. “No prob, bob.” She hops off the bench, swinging him up with her. "...If it'll help, Germy," she says after a pause, "then I think that maybe you don't have to try to hide it so much. Nobody will remember that one day, like, 'ooh did you hear the time that Jeremy sneezed three times in class?' 'I know, how scandalous!" Jeremy can't help but huff out a laugh at her goofy character voices, nodding along.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Christine asks after a moment, and Jeremy mumbles something like 'just being cool with- with everything is more than- more than enough' and Christine makes a pouty face, probably wanting to say something touching and inspirational about how she wouldn't do anything else, but she kicks a pebble and starts rambling about undead porpoises and their potential to never have to come up for air versus their increased likelihood to be eaten by crabs in terms of versatility in necromantic conflicts, and it's exactly what Jeremy wanted.

“...Do you want to tell everyone else? Or- who knows?” She asks suddenly in the middle of a one person debate on if a zombie crab would eat itself, much further down the road.

“Only Michael. And… you now, I guess. And not yet, I think.” Jeremy says after a pause. He… he trusts everyone a lot more than he did in sophomore year, but. 

Christine squeezes his hand, leading the way back to her car. She’s twirling around again, a new kind of lightness to her that Jeremy didn’t even realize was missing. 

“...Soon, though.” Jeremy murmurs. “Soon.”

(Jeremy doesn't even mind the joking interrogation his dad puts him through at seeing him out late with someone other than Michael, not really.)

(Even if it ends with Jeremy's face in his hands while his dad's trying not to break character, he doesn't mind.)

(It's nice to tell the truth.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 1: Have people who accept you for you.
> 
> (thank you for reading!! if you want, please leave a review or criticism down below. i'd really appreciate knowing how i can improve! if you have theories on who/what will appear/happen next, I would also love to hear that too!
> 
> \+ this will be expanded upon later, but jeremy in this fic is written w/ ((pretty much untreated)) ocd and ts. i'm drawing from my own experiences w/ symptoms + personal accounts of others, but if there is something egregiously wrong feel free to let me know. ps, jeremy is in a pretty bad brain place irt to Symptoms so just know that u aren't weird or bad bc of tics/compulsions.. and that's Facts
> 
> finally, the title of this chapter comes from the boy least likely to's i keep myself to myself.)


	2. the world is made of boxes i don't fit in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy’s been feeling more awake and less holding back, but he’s… been nervous if he’s been too obvious about it, if anyone’s noticing or you know… saying things? He goes to Jenna for the sitch.
> 
> Also: hot goss, persistent tics and fidgets, and entering the courtroom of Judge Judith Sheindlin.
> 
> \---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (hey! sorry this is likeeeee a month after i wanted it to be out. thank you so much for your responses! no lie it was a pretty big motivation to get this chapter out, especially with college apps and final projects due and all that jazz.
> 
> this came out lengthier than i intended and im not 100% on it, but i hope y'all like it! consider it a really really late jenna week chapter...?
> 
> warnings: Jeremy Typical Things, ableism, Blatant Insecurity, past bullying.)
> 
> (and harry and the hendersons spoilers.)

Jeremy considers the plan a moderate success, at least within the last three-fourths of a day that it’s existed for.

‘The Plan’ being to stop stopping himself from ticcing, except when it would be bad- okay, especially bad- to do so. (Also, his inner-Michael voice supplies, a really good song by Built to Spill.)

Pros are that he can already feel some of the tension leaking out his shoulders. And he didn’t feel any more out of sorts than normal this morning, maybe even feeling a little better, a little more awake, and maybe even getting better at- letting go, or, like, not holding back already. He's even been thinking of how to work his tics into how he plays his role in the play. And no major part of his life has imploded due to tic-led catastrophe, like being excommunicated from the metaphorical church of Middleborough High. Like, weird example, but good.

Cons being that it feels like everyone has been constantly talking about him all day.  
Which is overdramatic, but feels like electric ants crawling on his neck, so. Not good.

But. Still. Focusing on the positives. Nobody’s said anything to him so far. Which…  
Which could be really, really bad. Or really good! Or the exact average, normal in between those two options. It’s fine.

…

It might be better to just… know. Know for sure, whether or not everyone can tell. So he can just know and deal with that and not worry. Great.

So, in the middle of going through the lunch line, he decides to ask. Not in a weird way. Just in a super casual, super cool, in a ‘hey-just-asking, have-you-noticed-something-lethally-weird-about-me-in-the-last-18-hours?’ kind of way.

And he'll know, and it'll be fine.

Jeremy tries to focus on that as he makes his way to the table with his lunch, and speeds up when he sees-  
Jeremy slows his amble. He looks over and around and probably looks totally weird to everyone else, but it still doesn’t look like anybody’s at the table.

Except Jenna?

He slowly picks up speed again, and sits in his usual spot two seats away from Jenna, sitting down carefully. 

People being gone isn’t the weirdest thing, because sometimes Michael gets stuck in traffic from going out or Jake has math tutoring or Christine wanting to eat in the quiet buzz of the band room, but it’s never been just him and Jenna.

He leans over a bit and starts to ask-

“They’re all in Ms. Alm’s Physics test, or the Honors history exam.” She says without looking away from her phone, typing rapidly, seemingly copying something from the notebooks splayed out in front of her. Jeremy closes his mouth. He leans back.

Jeremy kind of feels bad that he didn’t remember anyone telling him about their tests, and that she immediately assumed he was going to ask ‘where was everybody’ and not ‘hi jenna,’ or ‘how’s your day?’ or even something stupid like ‘sup, jenster!’ and he feels worse that she was right.

Without Michael and Christine on either side of him, he feels weirdly exposed, like the faulty fluorescent lighting above him is a spotlight. 

It itches up his back. 

He rolls his shoulders, looking back and forth between Jenna and the cheesy joke on the side of his milk carton. 

_‘Why did the cow want to get abducted by aliens? It wanted to see the mooon!’_

Jeremy sighs. He thinks about how ‘they would have loved that’ with all of the drama of a romance protagonist waiting for their lost lover, before thinking about how the hell he’s going to ask everyone the question he’s been psyching himself up to ask all day. Preferably in the least painfully awkward way possible.  
...Which it assuredly will totally be now. He sighs again.

He spends what feels like an eternity half-heartedly poking at school nachos and trying to figure out how to start a conversation with a busy Jenna when he feels like a weird, twitchy bug under a schoolwide magnifying glass, before nearly jolting with the realization that she’s Jenna Roland and is literally the best person he knows to ask what he’s been worried about.

She wouldn’t not tell him to spare his feelings, or try to twist the knife deeper- on purpose, anyway.  
He thinks.

Then there’s a smaller eternity that is him trying to figure out what he could say that would naturally lead into ‘hey jenna have you heard?’, or even any conversation at all.  
“What are- what’cha doing?” Is what he decides on. He tries not to grimace.

"Organizing gossip," she says, but it's kind of weird. It comes out all rushed out, like she’s embarrassed, but Jenna never sounds even mildly self-conscious about gossiping.

Jeremy stumbles on what to say. “Uh,” he says, leaning slightly closer. “Are you making a… data sheet?” Most of her notebooks seem to have tallies next to unidentifiable word jumbles. 

She blocks his vision of the nearest book with her arm. “Yeah,” She says, with a bit of a defensive edge. When normally she would already be telling their whole group the newest story. 

She pauses for a bit, tapping the side of her pencil on the table, a distinct rat tat tat. Jeremy absently taps his blunt fingernails on the table in the same pattern. “...The internet sucks today, though, and my spreadsheet app won’t open.”

“Oh! Well, um. I-I, I like making lists. And charts. And organizing stuff? I wouldn’t say that I’m like, a neat person, but I like doing stuff like that. You know?” She nods yes, looking away with a weird expression on her face. “But uh, I heard the best way to do stuff like that is by writing it down, physically.” 

That makes Jenna pause again. “Why not just do it online?” 

“I don’t know, it just. It just makes it so that you always have it even if your phone dies or something or if you don’t have your internet, right?” Jeremy says, rubbing the knees of his jeans. “And- Michael said there was a study that you remember things better if you physically write them out? So?”

She actually seems to deeply consider that, clicking her pen rapidly. Click click click click- “A study, huh?” Click click click- “It’ll probably be faster to just do it by hand at this point.” Click, click- “Okay, yeah. That’s good advice.” Click. She nods, and flips to a clean page in one of her notebooks and starts drawing what looks vaguely like a chart, starting to quickly scribble down the whatever she’s doing.

“We both have the same free period, right?” He bursts out just as he remembers it, after a few moments of silence and writing. “And the same last period? The physics test with Mr. Mayer?”

“Yeah,” Jenna says after a few beats, like she’s surprised he’s remembered. “We do?”

“Well! Um. We could study together? Or I could help you with your...chart, thing?”

“I don’t need the answers to the packet.” Jenna says, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m sure you are just dying to help me with a mystery project for no reason.”

“No, I- I did it, I was- nobody else is in our class, and I thought it would be a good use of time? Um… And I was been serious. About the chart thing. You seem a little frazzled about it, and I thought I could…” He waves his hands around.

“...You have nice handwriting, right?”

He thinks about his own handwriting, how his hand goes all stiff now and his letters are neat and nice and completely devoid of any personality. He looks at Jenna’s lettering, which is slanted, sharp, and slightly messy which screams that she was writing in a passionate rush. (Her hand twitches slightly over the page, covering the words themselves before he can read them.)

Thinking about it makes him clench his hands, which makes him crack his knuckles, which he repeats under the table until it starts to make his joints ache. “I think the study said that you had to do it yourself for the memory stuff to work. But I can- I can read off stuff for you.”

That seems to place a significantly greater amount of pressure on her, and Jeremy would crumble and offer to write stuff anyway if he didn’t think it would break the look of intense concentration on her face. She begins to- not gnaw because gnawing is what Jeremy does and it’s gross- mess with the clip of her pencil between her teeth.

It makes Jeremy want to chew on his own pencil. He remembers he left them all at home again. He settles for his fingernails.

“Okay,” she decides, and Jeremy rips his hand away from his mouth as she brandishes her pencil at him like a sword. “But you can’t tell anyone what you see, understand?” She says, which seems a little weird to him- because isn’t the whole point of gossip is telling other people? But maybe it cancels out if its him who’s saying it, so he nods nods nods and agrees. She nods decisively, and the determined way she slams her books down to put them away sounds like a judge slamming a gavel.

“I normally go to the library for free period. And lunch should end in 2 minutes, but I normally leave 2 minutes after that because the traffic sucks. So you have time to finish your lunch. Which, like, you should do.”

From the way she’s looking at him he probably won’t get away with not eating without more questions, so he eats while she writes, dabbing his mouth with his napkin and feeling both pleasantly surprised at half-decent cafeteria food and cursing himself for picking the messiest food item possible.

Eventually she slides her backpack over her shoulders as most of the other kids have left the cafeteria, and he scrambles to throw away his lunch and follow her.

“Ready?” Jenna asks, stuffing her pencil into her hoodie pocket. She smiles at him, a little tentatively. “Just follow me. I got a spot.”

Jeremy realizes he's never actually walked with Jenna alone to- well, anywhere, actually. "Let's, uh, go!" he cheers, and refuses to not push back his bangs.

\---  
Jeremy learns three things about Jenna in quick succession: 

The way she moves in the hallways reminds him of himself, before everything. Maybe it’s just without Chloe or Brooke or their new status in the school, but she moves like she’s trying to remain unseen. Weaving in and out, ducking heads between conversations. Like she just wants to get through.

She is also very fast and kind of hard to keep up with, but that may be because they have a minute left to get out of the hallways and Jeremy trips over himself at the worst opportunities.

Three is that Jenna bursts through library doors like she’s an attorney in a tv show that’s either late with case-saving evidence or has a flair for the dramatic.  
She walks in with such confidence Jeremy wonders if somebody should be saying ‘All rise.’ 

...Maybe he’s just imagining her in all these courtroom scenarios because it feels like she’s going to pass on a verdict by the end of their impromptu hangout?/study/mysterious-note-copying party. ‘You are about to enter the courtroom of Judge Jennifer(?) Roland. The losers are real. The gossip is real. The rulings are final for the rest of your high school years. This is... Judge Jenna.’ 

Except instead of goofy domestic rulings its whether or not everyone thinks Jeremy is weird- unforgivably so.  
Anyway.

The school library is pretty okay, mostly because the librarians don’t actually care if you talk as long as there isn't a class using the computers and you don’t screech or something. Jenna beelines for a group of comfy chairs next to a table, and spreads her stuff expertly over it like she’s done this a million times. Jeremy realizes he’s never really seen her in here before, but she must be a regular from the friendly nod of the desk lady when she was logging in.

Jeremy sits down carefully in one the scratchy-plush chairs near Jenna’s and scrambles to carry the notebook and cell that Jenna tosses in his arms. “I need to combine the results I have on the spreadsheet and the ones I have on that notebook; the app won’t let me edit or make anything. Just tell me the numbers for each cell.”

He glances over the page and scrolls through the document. Numbers next to initials, same as her other notebooks. “What kind of project are you doing?”

“...Surveys.” She says.

“Surveys for what?” He asks absently, still scrolling. He can’t distinguish any of the acronyms on the sides as he looks down. ‘JD, ‘BRE’, ‘GTC’... He can’t even think of people they might be initials for or what they could possibly be. 

There’s one that’s pretty decisive, though, and he thinks his eyes bug out when he reads it. “UFO’s?” He says, gawking up at her.

Jenna hunkers down like she’s expecting an instant barrage. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Just get it out of your system, or let me finish.”

“No- no no no, I was- what are you recording with these?”

“...Cryptid sightings, as recently reported by New Jersey residents, organized by location.”

Jeremy shuffles through the pages out on the table, looking through the chart- and yeah, it makes a lot of sense. JD- Jersey Devil, GM- Gator man, maybe... and he can recognize the names of locations as towns and parks across the state. “What’s BRE?” He asks, running a finger over the acronym.

“Big Red Eye,” She says. “Not, like a giant flying eyeball? Or whatever you’re thinking.” ...It was a little bit. “It’s basically our version of Bigfoot.”

Jeremy tries to prompt her.“Yeah, but- like, what have people said about it?”

Jenna raises her eyebrow tentatively. “You really wanna hear me talk about made-up monster stories.”  
But then, she launches into a speech anyway, slowly growing into enthusiasm like when she tells her best gossip. “Okay, so. The big difference between usual Bigfoot sightings and Big Red Eyes are their, like, distinctive red eyes. And terrible howling in the dead of night. Some say that they’re standing bears or just, like, really hairy guys runnin’ around at night, but I-” She coughs behind her hand, blush in her cheeks, and Jeremy tries to send her a supportive thumbs up. 

“I think it’s a… a subspecies of the usual Western Bigfoot. If they were, like, real. Hypothetically.”

Jeremy takes a few seconds to process. “Wait, you… Think there’s more than one Bigfoot?” 

Jenna has a flicker of doubt on her face before Jeremy rushes back in. “Yes! Thank you! I’ve trying to tell Michael that for ages! He says that there’s only one Bigfoot, and that he’s seen all over the world because he has superspeed and can teleport- which is mostly a joke from a really bad 80’s movie called Cry Wilderness, which you should watch, but then he claims that my movie source is unreliable?” 

Jeremy might be hyping up his excitement a little more than normal, but he mostly wants Jenna to not feel self-conscious about this. Plus, he’s literally never talked about this with anyone other than Michael, so.  
Jenna starts to smile a bit, looking happily confused. “And what’s your movie source for Bigfoot being a species?”

Jeremy pauses. “The end of the Harry and the Henderson movie,” He mumbles, and Jenna bursts into laughter. “You know, that part where Harry goes back into the forest and all the other Bigfoot come out from hiding and wave and stuff!” Jenna laughs harder, and Jeremy can’t help but giggle along. “That’s- It’s canon! It’s in the Bigfoot canon! Trying to ignore it is- revisionist history!” 

Jeremy looks over his shoulder and sees a pointed look from the desk lady, but he’s never seen Jenna look this happy while talking to her. He tries to look apologetic while half-heartedly trying to shush Jenna, who’s still covering her mouth with a hand while she laughs to herself. 

“Harry and the Hendersons,” She wheezes, “as a basis for a theory. Okay, I gotta write this down.” When she goes to write down notes in a little handbook, Jeremy can see her full grin, dimples and all. It's really nice.

He looks down at the list again.

“I kinda love UFO stories, but only the ones where nothing actually bad happens- I don’t really think that aliens so advanced would be huge dicks for no reason. Most of them make Michael super pissed. Especially the ancient alien ones. He mostly likes it when, y’know, we find out how ancient humans did cool shit and not jump to aliens.”

“He says that abductions are always either sleep paralysis, because he’s watched like a million things about that, or people are tricking themselves into believing stuff happened, because he’s watched a million things like that,” Jeremy huffs out a breath, “And like, he understands the aesthetic but he doesn’t believe in it. But, like, how could so many people imagine the exact same thing?”

Jeremy realizes Jenna’s been writing down things the whole time. “No, yeah. I think there’s totally like, a psychological thing? But aliens probably exist.” She says, decisively clicking her pen. “Do you want to read off the data on my phone?” Jenna nudges her phone over to Jeremy again, unlocked. “Just don’t… yeah. It’s all there in the doc.”

They go back and forth, reading off data and copying down into charts, discussing different cryptids and that one town that has weirdly prominent ghost cow sightings, and Jenna tells him about a ghost cow cryptid that turned out to just be a lost cow, and it’s really cool.

He tells Jenna the joke he saw on the side of the carton, and she snorts into her hand. He can’t help his grin. 

They actually make a pretty effective team, and only about a third of the way through their free period they reach the end of Jenna’s chart.  
Jeremy tosses her phone back to her. Literally, actually, and it’s a really bad throw.

Their back and forth kind of quiets a bit, and Jeremy starts thinks about… well.

Jeremy had been thinking about this since first period- well, okay. Before that. Since he decided to stop not ticcing.

It had been three entire class periods, plus lunch, since then. 

Jeremy wasn't entirely sure on the required time for a gossip gestation period, but everyone knew that Jake had slept with Madeline within 12 hours and everyone 'knew' that Jeremy had cheated on Brooke within 8 and everyone had heard about Annabeth S. from the Student Council leaving school to get her appendix removed within 1.  
So, Jeremy thinks, it isn't too paranoid to think that maybe people were talking.

“Hey, J-Jen? Can I ask you something? I just think your- you’re probably the best person to ask.” Jeremy can feel that he’s already tripping over himself in his nervousness. Great start!!

“What’s it about?” Jenna asks.

“Well, you know… Rumors. Gossip. Things.”

Jenna kind of looks at him for a bit, then he sees her slowly close off in ways he didn’t notice before. Her shoulders rise up, and she crosses her arms and legs, and leans away from him, into the table. “Gossip. Things.” She intones. “Uh-huh. Of course.”

Jeremy gets the distinct feeling he said the completely wrong thing. “I didn’t mean-”

“No, no,” She waves him off, wrist snapping back and forth. “Just ask.”

Jeremy tries swallows the anxiety rising up in his throat, speaking around it. “Have you heard about anything really... recent?”

“How recent.”

"Liiike... within today?"

"Why are you worried about gossip for something that literally just happened today?"

He thinks about how a few hours is enough for anything to spread.

"Everyone knew about Mr. Lee yelling at his freshman class this morning by third period." Is what he says.

"...That's valid." She makes a ‘go-on’ hand motion.

“...Have people been saying I’m,” He flapped a hand around, “Weird, y’know? More than usual, lately? Notice me doing… weird things- weirder things, like coughing too much, or, or, jiggling my knee, or rubbing my face a weird amount? Anything like that?”

Jeremy makes sure to give her time to think, but the silence goes on a few beats too long.

“Jenna?”

Jenna isn’t looking at him. “I don’t… I don’t want to… I’m trying not to deal in that kind of gossip any more.” She grips her phone tightly in her hand. “Talking bad about people for… for dumb things, you know. Talking shit about people in general.”

“Oh! Oh, that’s good. It’s good to um…” He flexes his fingers. “Be positive. And nice to people.”

Jenna nods loosely. Jeremy tries again. “But, like, really? It’s okay. If you have heard anything about me recently, I would really appreciate it if you just told me-”

“Jeremy.” Jenna reaches a hand toward him, cutting him of. “No. I haven’t heard anything. And it wouldn’t matter if I did, because that kind of shit doesn’t matter! Especially coming from the people who have literally nothing better to do then to spread rumors about strangers!” Jeremy leans back a bit, not sure why she’s so suddenly upset.

Jenna deflates against her chair with a sigh.

“Jeremy, I.” She clicks the pen. “I’ve been meaning to, um.”

Jenna takes a huge breath.  
“I’mreallysorryIstoleandmadefunofyournumbernotebookthing.”

“...Whuh?” Jeremy replied, with pretty much the same amount of grace. “My...numbernotebookthing?”

Jenna seemed to flounder a little bit more, and Jeremy felt bad for making her stress out even more over...whatever it was? She was apologizing for? “You know, the, uh…” She pointed her pen at him. “The notebook with all the tally lists and counting things? You left it on your desk in chemistry towards the end of sophomore year and I took it, and showed it to Brooke and Chloe as fuel for, like, gossip.” The end of her speech seems to come out all in a rush, like when Jeremy practices a presentation and he flips and says it all at once.

Uh…  
Oh.

Suddenly, Jeremy remembers what she’s talking about.  
He sorta lets out a little laugh and looks down and away from her, awkwardness coming back down on his chest. “Uh, that was my… Disappointment tally? Basically like, when I messed up or said something st-dumb, or lame, I would mark it down and hoped that pointing it out would make me stop doing it?” Jeremy has to laugh again. “It, wow. It sounds a lot sadder now.”

He thinks about it. That notebook being found was, if he remembered, the final nail in his coffin in terms of not-being-seen-as-a-creepy-deviant. He didn’t know that Jenna found it, but he did know that he got it back a week later along with lovingly thorough vandalism and the rumors that he was a total creeper who got off to, like, numbers or something began- and they didn’t fade by the time he came back from summer like he hoped. It sort of compounded everything that he was going through at the end of that school year and the beginning of this one, especially since right around then-

Yeah. It sucked.

He looks back up to Jenna. She’s fiddling with the pen in her hand, obviously wanting to click it but stopping herself. “I’m sorry, Jeremy. That. That was an awful thing to do to you. You didn’t even do anything.” She sighed, looking back down. “I’m sorry.”

Jeremy thinks about Jenna. He thinks about what he knows about Jenna.  
He thinks about how desperate he was a year ago, how desperate he was a few months ago.

“I accept your apology, Jen.” He knows his smile is a little too crooked, but he means it. “And I forgive you.”

Her eyebrows furrow at that. “Jeremy- seriously, don’t feel pressured to forgive me like, right now-”

“Well, you guys…” Jeremy jerkily shrugs. “You guys forgave me-”

That makes her surge forward again. “That’s not the same thing! You shouldn’t forgive me just ‘cause I forgave you. Plus, you had a totally different situation than me.”

“No-No, that’s not quite what I mean.” Jeremy looks directly at her. “You did it because you wanted to fit in, and be seen, and be popular. I did...some really awful things wanting to do that, too.” He tries to make a stern face. “So if you can forgive me for what I did, I can definitely understand what you did, uh, too.” He grimaces from his cracking voice, but he thinks he got his point across.

Jenna looks like she wants to argue, but then throws her hands up and relents. “Fine. I accept your acceptance.” She grumbles, but a smile is growing on her face again.

“Sorry if I was snappy earlier.” She says, softly. “It’s kind of a weird time of the year for me.”

“...Yeah. Me too.”

“That’s why I’m focusing on UFO sightings and not… other stuff.” She moves her fingers in a vague ‘everything’ motion.

“Sometimes… Aliens and Bigfeet are the only truly important things in life.” Jeremy says sagely, overdramatically bowing his head, and Jenna giggles.

Then there’s a curious glint in her eyes again.  
“By the way… what was your deal, yesterday?” She asks.

Total blank. “Uh.”

“I mean, obviously I got the ‘I totally know what’s up now! It’s all good!!! Smiley smiley sparkly emote!’ when I asked Christine last night, but I wanted to ask you. I was… kind of… worried? And not just curious? Who would guess!” She laughs a little awkwardly, but with a genuine grin.

“I would guess. And, um… Yesterday. At rehearsal.” He winces. “I was having some… trouble, but Christine and I had a talk. I think I’m…” He doesn’t want to tell the whole truth, but he doesn’t want to lie. He turns away, but tries to keep his eyes on her. “I’m going to be good.”  
“And also? I think you can be really nice. When you don’t, uh… use gossip as a reason to ask people things? And talk about things you really like?”

“...Thanks, Jeremy.” She aimlessly trails her pen around on a paper, smiling to herself. It’s quiet again.

Jeremy thinks.

He's glad that Jenna is really trying to change. The feeling that someone else hasn't weighs in his chest.

Really, the only reason he talked to her was for his own gain.  
He says to himself that he just wanted to ask her something, that it wasn't like that.

But... isn't it true?  
Jeremy only started a conversation with her because he wanted something from her.  
And he talked with her about cryptids because they had it in common and he didn't want her to be self-conscious-  
But what the _real_ reason he did that was to manipulate her feelings, and-

“You good?” Jenna asks, and Jeremy crashes back down to earth. The curious-and-worried look is making a reappearance. 

He makes sure to put a smile back on his face. “Yeah, just thinking. I’m good.”

“Good. Because now that that’s done…” A menacingly heavy drop of books comes down on the table. “How prepared are you for the physics practice exam next class?”

Jeremy groans.

\---

Nobody says anything about his tics, it turns out. The test goes fine (with probably substantial help from the rapid-fire study session he had with Jenna), and he only passes out after the test, luckily.

He gets to say ‘sup’ to Michael at the end of the day, and Christine lets Jeremy sleep in the back of her bug when she drops him off at his house. (Michael had a hangout planned with Nicole after school and couldn’t take Jeremy, and Christine didn’t want him to miss his bus stop.)

It’s actually... pretty okay. The world doesn’t end.

Just keeps going.

Just keep going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( thank you for reading! again, any comments/feedback are really appreciated! esp. if it was too long/slow/uneventful/etcccc 
> 
> \+ the 1987 films Cry Wilderness and Henry and the Hendersons are both real movies, by the way. The Hendersons is a very cheesy movie- and a big favorite of 6-year-old Jeremy, and Cry Wilderness is a genuinely bad movie, which 16-year-old Michael is filled with a deep, morbid love for. 
> 
> \+ Jeremy thinks Jenna and Michael would be good friends, for good reason.
> 
> \+ Did you know that there were over a hundred reported UFO sightings in NJ in 2015? The ghost cow is the griggstown cow, which turned out to be real! 
> 
> the title is from the boy least likely to's i keep myself to myself.... again! )

**Author's Note:**

> Step 1: Have people who accept you for you.
> 
> (thank you for reading!! if you want, please leave a review or criticism down below. i'd really appreciate knowing how i can improve! if you have theories on who/what will appear/happen next, I would also love to hear that too!
> 
> \+ this will be expanded upon later, but jeremy in this fic is written w/ ((pretty much untreated)) ocd and ts. i'm drawing from my own experiences w/ symptoms + personal accounts of others, but if there is something egregiously wrong feel free to let me know. ps, jeremy is in a pretty bad brain place irt to Symptoms so just know that u aren't weird or bad bc of tics/compulsions.. and that's Facts
> 
> finally, the title of this chapter comes from the boy least likely to's i keep myself to myself.)


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